Paper Can Never Conceal Fire
by Mrs DarkRaven
Summary: Sometimes, you find family in the most unexpected of places...


Family. Ren had long come to consider his comrades as exactly that, and he'd a shrewd feeling that his sentiments were both mutual and reciprocrated. Wanyuudo was easily the wise, streetsmart grandfather with years of experience under his belt, slow to anger, yet more than capable of showing that his reflexes and strength hadn't waned along with his youth. Needless to say, Honne Onna was the vain, mildly conceited, overly-bossy-yet-totally-oblivious-to-it elder sister whose tongue was as sharp as the blade that he had used to be, and whom Ren had a love-hate relationship with. Kikuri, undeniably, was the bratty, overindulged little sibling whose sole purpose of existence was simply to make Ren's life in hell even more miserable- though, in the manner of all self-respecting elder brothers, he was always quick to deny any kinship between them both. As for himself? Ren felt a smirk creeping across his face as he wondered just how they regarded him- stubborn, inflexible, far too cynical for his own good, and way too serious for comfort. Kikuri had once asked him why he never smiled and he'd been quick to retort that her presence made such an expression impossible.

Then again... if you wanted solemnity, Ren didn't think that was quite up his alley. Ai never quite fit comfortably into the roles and duties of an ordinary household, and no one in their right mind expected her to. She was their mistress, their Ojou, and even Kikuri, who swore that a moment without wreaking havoc was a wasted one, knew that the other girl was not someone you should even think of crossing. Ren could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times he had heard her utter words unrelated to her duty as the conduit of the Lord of Hell, and he couldn't even count the occurences in which she had smiled because that was an act as likely, and thus as impossible, as Kikuri actually behaving herself for once.

Strange, he had seen nothing but indifference grace her fair face over the long years, and yet, he still found himself casting curious glances at her from time to time, in the undeterred hope that someday, somehow, he would find something else aside from seriousness there. After all, he'd been a sword before Ai had stumbled into his life, and as an entity much ignored until his owner's hands were once again thirsting for blood, he knew what it was like to be oppressed and unable to make your opinions known. He'd never been able to make any noise aside from clanging, and yet that hadn't meant that he had lost his capability to feel, or to think. If anything, the fate of being incarcerated in a metal prison had actually made his emotions even more acute by virtue of how they'd been bottled up for too long.

He remembered what it was like to burn with strong thoughts you just had to put voice to, and he recalled his pent-up fury at his inability to do so. He always was suprised that he hadn't actually lifted himself out of his scabbard (not that his ability to move was anymore present than his ability to talk) and slayed his master out of pure frustration. He had always felt that if he had somehow been given the chance, he would express everything that he had until there was nothing left to pour out, and he knew that Ai, like it or not, was a kindred spirit with him in that respect though Kikuri always remarked cheekily that Ai was much, much prettier.

Her feelings were there. They had to be. Some things were too strong and passionate to ever be truly erased, and the most you could do was conceal them, but even that would fail eventually because paper could never really hide fire with itself, could it? Ai's thoughts were probably as vivid a red as the cherries she was forever eating, and Ren knew that a heart, albeit beatless, was a heart was a heart was a heart, and he was willing to bet the appearance he was so fond of that her feelings were far closer to the surface than anyone had ever imagined them to be. Kikuri was the chink in that armour of hers, and someone was one day going to tear it clean open, regardless of whether any of them liked it or not.

"REN! HEADS UP!''

He'd never heard Honne Onna scream like that before, but since Kikuri had- a pox on that insufferable minx!- joined them, they'd all been doing things they'd never previously done. Ren practically levitated off the wooden porch as Ai's red ball came hurtling full speed at his head, compliments of a giggling Kikuri who had been on a crusade to do whatever it took to ruin the pretty face that Ren was so vain of. Yelling in shock, Ren promptly fell off the porch in his attempt to duck, windmilling wildly for a precarious second before falling to the sandy ground in an ungracious tangle over overly long limbs- as the ball bypassed him and smacked Ai- who'd emerged from the cottage to find out what all the commotion was about- right in the face.

Spitting out words he'd normally never use in the presence of a lady, Ren leapt to his feet as the ball slammed into his beloved mistress, making her yelp, knocking her backwards right into the pond with an almighty splash, raising a fountain of water nearly ten feet high. Honne Onna and Wanyuudo both dived at Kikuri at the same moment, only to have the little demon deftly evade their grasps so they wound up in an embrace with each other instead- and Ren dashed over to the pond where Ai was struggling back to her feet, water streaming from her dishevelled raven hair in rivulets, her seifuku soaked inside out. "Ojou! Are you alright?''

"Don't worry, Ai,'' Kikuri called impishly, skipping about, looking rather pleased with herself. She was the only one who called Ai by her name, and Ren wasn't sure what surprised him more- the fact that she dared to do so, or the fact that Ai actually allowed her to. "Even soaking wet, you still are prettier than Ren!''

Ren opened his mouth to roar, but checked himself in time and extended a hand to help Ai back out onto shore. Already, the unfazed Kikuri had retrieved the ball, and was concentrating hard on Wanyuudo's bald head, apparently having found her second target. Looking worriedly at his drenched mistress, he saw her staring at the younger girl, and he could have sworn by heaven and hell and everything else in between that there was the faintest glimmer of a smile on her face.

Someday... he'd once thought. But seeing her now, perhaps that someday was indeed much closer than he had always thought it would be...


End file.
